Remorse Part Deux
by pgrabia
Summary: House isn't the only one broken and twisted.  Companion piece to "Colonel Mustard with the Phone in Wilson's Office".  Because I felt like it.  H/W pre-slash, Sick!Wilson,House/Cameron friendship.  Spoilers up to 7x16 "Fall From Grace".  Adult Concepts.


**Title: ****Remorse Part Deux**

**Author:** pgrabia

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D. and I'm making no profit off of this…which really sucks.

**Genre:** AU, drama, angst, romance, sick!Wilson, friendship, hurt/comfort.

**Characters/Pairings:** House, Wilson (present, no speech), A. Cameron/ H/W pre-slash.

**Warnings/Spoilers:** Coarse language, adult concepts, discussion of drug abuse/ Spoilers up to 7x17 "Fall From Grace".

**Author's Notes:** A companion piece to the story **Colonel Mustard with the Phone in Wilson's **Office written for the LJ Sick!Wilson Fourth Anniversary Pic Challenge # 1: Telephone. I was going to include it in that story but decided it just didn't fit there but didn't want to scrap it.

**Rating:** R(M)

"I brought you some coffee and a sandwich. You need to eat."

"Yes, Mommy. What's in it?

"Black with one sugar, the way you normally take it."

"How do you know I haven't changed in the way I take it?"

"This from the man who coined the phrase 'People don't Change'.

"You always thought I could—or, correction, you always thought you could change me."

"No. I hoped that I could save you from yourself."

"What's the difference? You were wrong, either way."

"Yeah…yeah, you're right."

"You actually admit that?"

"(sigh) People may not change who they are, House, but they can and do _grow_. Time away from here…from you…has given me perspective on things."

"…"

"…"

"This coffee is not from the cafeteria. It actually tastes like coffee."

"I never said it was from the cafeteria…I went to Franco's Deli down the block. The sandwich is from there, too. I may have been gone for two years but I haven't forgotten what the food in this hospital tastes like."

"Now, now, let's be fair. The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals hasn't picketed the hospital since Cuddy banned adopting pets to make the the chili."

"(Giggle) That's disgusting."

"See, nothing's changed with me."

"Hm…"

"…"

"So how's he doing?"

"Read his chart…The same."

"It's only been six hours since he came out of surgery. The anesthetic hasn't even left his system yet. Too early to worry."

"Do I look worried?"

"In a word? Yes."

"I don't worry about people."

"Unless their name is Dr. James Wilson. Then all bets are off."

"You think you're so smart."

"I _know_ I'm smart."

"Yeah…"

"Your leg bothering you?"

"When doesn't it? It's fine…it just didn't enjoy standing in a cold operating room for six and a half hours."

"You actually scrubbed in?"

"Yeah."

"Why, House? You could have watched from the gallery."

"I would have needed my opera glasses up there and I forgot them in my other pants today."

"Oh, I forgot about this."

"This? What's 'this'?"

"The way you avoid sensitive topics by cracking jokes about them or deflecting."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. And those shoes make you look fat, by the way."

"Exactly."

"So what are you doing in Princeton anyway? Got bored in Chicago without me and decided to get your fill of the _Lost Soul_ to remind you how morally superior you are before heading back?"

"You're not irredeemable."

"Uh, that's not what you said before you stormed out of my office two years ago."

"I remember what I said. I was frightened and upset…and I had no right to say those things to you."

"You accused me of corrupting your ex."

"I said I remember."

"But you didn't mean any of it?"

"Not all of it…not the part about you being irredeemable. Even if I had meant that, I would have been wrong. Actually I think I tore into you like I did because it was easier than acknowledging everything that was twisted and broken about me."

"But you've found Jesus and now you're all better?"

"Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I did…found Jesus—where do you get that crap from?"

"My parents forced me to go to church with them when I was a kid. My Sunday School teacher when I was five was a creepy old woman who told her classes that Jesus was watching us every second of every day and we never knew when he would just pop out and judge us. I had nightmares for three months after that—and if you say a word of this to another living soul—"

"I won't. That's…that's a terrible thing that happened! She shouldn't have been allowed within five hundred feet of a child."

"Hm…"

"…"

"…"

"Step nine."

"What was that?"

"That's why I'm here. I'm on step nine: 'Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.'

"…"

"What? I told you that I was twisted and broken."

"How the hell did I miss _that_?"

"You had your own brokenness to deal with. You're only human, you know."

"Huh…so, what was it?"

"Diet pills. By the time I began to work for you I was already past the 'getting high' stage. I took what was necessary to keep from crashing. I was…_plump_ in ninth grade and nothing I did worked to get the weight off. I tried the bulimia thing and found it overrated. I started taking the pills my junior year of college. They not only helped me slim down but came in handy when I had to pull an all-nighter to get a paper done or study for an exam."

"You little hypocrite."

"Guilty as charged."

"So now you're here to apologize to Chase."

"And you. Robert and I have already talked. It was good. I know that actions speak louder than words to you…but since my plane leaves in four hours I guess words will have to do. I'm sorry House…for all of it: The sanctimony, the lectures, my judgmental behavior…and the childish crush that I refused to let go of. God…I made such a fool of myself!"

"You really did you know. I guess it's understandable how a beautiful ingénue like you could fall for the incredibly handsome and virile older man and mentor like me. I tried not to be too hard on you."

"Are you drunk?"

"If only."

"Yeah."

"…"

"…"

"I tried to change…for Cuddy. Did everything she expected me to do…and she expected a lot…but in the end I screwed up as I was destined to do. After that I gave up."

"I know. I heard—I still have my sources spying for me around here. You shouldn't have had to change who you are. You could adapt some of your behaviors…but if she had really loved you, she would have taken you for the real you."

"Maybe…doesn't matter though. I relapsed, hit the booze, prostitutes, risky behavior—then I married a woman who was looking for a green card because it was a convenience for me and I thought that it might hurt Cuddy."

"Did it?"

"(Sigh) Not as much as it did Wilson."

"Hmm…"

"That wasn't any ordinary hum. Tell me what you meant by it."

"Why do you care what I think?"

"I have a renewed respect for you."

"Why? Because now you know that I'm a speed addict?"

"Do I need a better reason? Tell me."

"House—"

"Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"You're such a child, did you know that?"

"It's part of my charm."

"Is _that_ what you call it? Okay, fine; but just remember, you asked."

"Hurry up. This is getting boring fast."

"That's because you're attention deficit."

"I'm sorry, what was that you said? I got distracted there for a moment."

"My spies told me a little bit of what has been going on here lately between you and Cuddy and you and Wilson. That, plus what I observed of you and Wilson while I still worked here…I'm just wondering something."

"Wondering what?"

"When are you going to tell him that you're in love with him?"

"…"

"…"

"Boy, that really _was_ boring. I've got a good dirty limerick. There once was a fellow with sass—"

"Avoiding the issue only keeps you miserable."

"—who liked to be fucked up his—"

"House."

"—ass."

"Yes, you definitely are acting like one."

"…"

"You _are_ in love with him, aren't you?"

"…"

"Because when I first walked into the room and found you kissing his hand it was a pretty big clue that you are."

"…I can't."

"You can't tell him?"

"No, I can't."

"Why not? It's been clear to not only myself but others here at PPTH as well that he's definitely in love with you."

"The hell he is."

"It's true. Look, I'm going to tell you something that I haven't told anyone before, something about a little conversation I had with Wilson years ago concerning you."

"…"

"It was just before we went out on our one and only formal date."

"You mean the date from hell?"

"Uh, yeah. That one."

"Go on."

"Well, before that date Wilson came up to me here at the hospital and told me to be careful. I thought he meant that I was to be careful because you might end up hurting me but I had it wrong. He wasn't concerned about me—he was concerned about you getting hurt."

"Me?"

"He told me that you'd just come out of a relationship which had been very painful for you and that you were vulnerable and he didn't want me to take advantage of you or hurt you in anyway. His words were framed to sound like friendly advice, but it came across loud and clear as a warning to me. It wasn't something that a person who was just looking out for a friend would do. I got the distinct impression that there was some jealousy going on there."

"He just wanted to get into your pants."

"Uh uh. He didn't want _me_ to get into _yours_. Trust me House—call it feminine intuition—he's in love with you. You both love each other, you've been best friends for years, neither one of you has had success dating women, and you accept each other exactly the way you are. You have no expectations of the other to change in order to be best friends and there's no reason why that has to change if you became a couple. The only thing that would change is that you'd be having sex."

"What, are you an advocate for the GLBT community now? Should I tell Thirteen that you're available or something?"

"You're deflecting again."

"That's because I don't want to be having this conversation."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Oh…how about that he'll reject me and I'll lose my best friend?"

"There's nothing you could say or do to lose his friendship after everything you two have put each other through and you know it. So what are you really afraid of?"

"Damnit! I forgot just how incredibly annoying you really are!"

"I haven't forgotten how you like to preach the truth but avoid it when it pertains to your feelings. Tell me, House. Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"_Cameron_—"

"What are you afraid of?"

"Nnnng…Gah! If Wilson and I get together and I fuck it up—which I _will_—then I _will_ lose him! I'll not only lose a lover, I'll lose my best friend—my only friend, the only person in the world who's stuck with me."

"You're forgetting one very important thing."

"(Sigh) And what is that?"

"That you two have been in love with each other for years, whether or not you've actually admitted it to each other, and you have 'fucked' up many times and so has he and yet here you are. Sitting at his bedside, holding his hand. Kissing it. Praying to a god that you know doesn't exist that he'll wake up and be normal again. And we both know that if the tables were turned he'd be right here sitting vigil over you. So your fear—well, it's just been proven irrational."

"…"

"So there's no reason not to tell him how you feel. That is, unless you want to remain miserable."

"…"

"Do you?"

"Your entire argument is moot if he doesn't wake up. You know that, don't you?"

"He'll wake up."

"…"

"…"

"Cameron?"

"Yes?"

"I hope you do better with your sobriety than I did."

"Well...thank you, House. It's not too late for you to start over, you know."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do...and so do you."

"…"

"If you're not willing to do it for yourself, then do it as a gift for him. He's worth it, isn't he?"

"Yeah…he really is."


End file.
